


Give Me Everything

by purgatoan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blindfolds, Butt Plugs, Collars, Coming Untouched, Cunnilingus, Edging, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Gags, Human Furniture, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Pegging, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgatoan/pseuds/purgatoan
Summary: Abaddon is the only one who has everything Dean needs.





	Give Me Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta’d, so all the mistakes are mine!
> 
> Uhm, this one totally got away from me. Holy fucking shit whoops. I love how it turned out and I hope you’ll love it, too! (Also, side note? It’ll have a continuation someday, promise!)

He can’t see anything with his eyes blindfolded, deprived of even the slightest amount of light, but he doesn’t complain. He doesn’t dare, knowing what it can lead to, or rather, what it definitely won’t lead to.

The floor is cold under the palms of his hands, but somewhat welcoming, keeping his mind as sharp as it can get, considering the situation. And there’s a lot to consider. The collar envelopes his neck tightly, but it feels far from uncomfortable, rather familiar.

It always helps him get into the correct mindspace, not to mention that he likes to feel owned by anyone, but especially, by her.

“Didn’t know you would be so easy to deal with,” Abaddon whispers, letting out a chuckle that has the dangerous edge to it. “You seemed all serious and mighty at the beginning, you know?

Even if there’s a part of Dean that would like to make a snarky remark, he can’t. Not with the ball gag stuffed in his mouth, making it impossible to even swallow properly with his mouth wide. Not to mention the drool that’s slipping out of the edges of his forced wide mouth and running down his chin, drop by single drop.

“And now you’re nothing else than a beautiful piece of furniture.” Abaddon adds as she adjusts the position of her legs on his back, and the compliment is enough to have his cheeks burning; he can never get used to that. “Don’t even have to tie you up to make you do what I want.”

The only answer Dean has to that is a groan that gets muffled by the gag, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She seems to like the way he’s restricted, unable to vocalize his thoughts properly, if judging by her appreciative hum. Slowly, Abaddon’s sharp nails trail over Dean’s shoulders and he doesn’t suppress a moan when she flicks her hand fast, cutting his skin.

It doesn’t hurt that much to bleed, at least not if she’s the one doing the cutting.

Dean’s cock jumps immediately, the sensation proving to be enough to force a reaction out of him. He stays still, though, knowing that disobedience won’t be rewarded and the reward is the only thing he cares about.

At least, that’s what Dean tells himself all the time.

The anticipation gets him more than anything and he’s growing hard in no time with nothing else other than the little pain to keep him going. She repeats the action a few times, scratching and cutting random places, making Dean wish he can see the marks left on his body.

Abaddon is quiet, only the sound of her breathing getting to his ears, and he knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s trying to make him lose control. Dean doesn’t dare squirm, even though his muscles ache from being in one position for long, the numbness seeping into his body, enveloping him whole. With so little stimulation, a blow of air across his back is enough to make his whole body tremble, and he loves it. He loves all of it.

The pressure Abaddon is putting on his stretched out back is difficult to fight with, his arms and legs desperately trying to stay in the same place as she does her best to smash him into the ground. “Trying so hard not to fail, that’s cute,” Abaddon mocks, putting even more force into her actions.

This time, Dean’s legs and arms spread wide as they ride on cold tiles, with no hope of keeping them together. She’s too strong, there’s no denying it. He bites down a shout at the sudden feeling of coldness against the rest of his body and his leaking cock, yet feeling even more turned on because of the chill dancing against his skin.

Then, the weight from his back his gone and he can’t tell what’s going to happen next, waiting patiently for her next move.

Abaddon knows exactly the effect such play has on him, her fingers caressing the curve of his spine all the way to his ass as he tries to compose himself, despite everything. Clearly, she has him exactly where she wants him to, because he doesn’t get a command to get back into his previous position, so he stays where he is.

Chest heaving, limbs shaking, he waits.

For a good while, Dean’s left with nothing else but the frantic beating of his heart and wild thoughts rushing through his brain at a record speed. The silence seems eerie, even though Abaddon rarely speaks too much in situations like this one, and the absence of her touch seems to be felt even more than its presence.

When her hand skims over his left asscheek, the other pulling him up to his hands and knees, Dean draws in a shaky breath, desperate to find out what she has planned for him this time. Surprises are always the best, he has to admit, so he doesn’t mind waiting a bit longer and being kept in the dark first.

The first hard slap has his ass arching into Abaddon’s touch before he’s able to stop himself. Either she doesn’t notice or doesn’t want to, because she doesn’t say a word, just hits him one more time in the exact same place, the sting so strong it travels through his whole body and straight to his cock.

Abaddon keeps striking him, alternating the place and force she uses, clearly wanting to make his ass cherry red before they do anything else. Or, maybe, that’s all she plans on doing? Either way, it’s enough to make Dean forget about the outside world as his perception gets limited to his ass, Abaddon’s hand, and the sharp pleasure-pain shooting through his body over and over again.

His cock bobs heavy in between his legs, twitching and leaking precome, and broken screams make their way out of his mouth, echoing from the walls of the room they’re in. They’re some kind of a broken symphony, the only kind of music that shows how truly fucked up he is, reflecting every tendril of darkness consuming his body.

Though, it’s difficult to think about how corrupt he is with Abaddon treating him like the only thing in the world, worshipping him in her own twisted way. He feels special, even if he knows she could toss him out like a broken toy whenever her interest fades, leaving him alone with all the mad thoughts in his mind.

When she stops and pulls away abruptly, Dean’s blood is ringing in his ears, and only then he realizes how close he was to falling over the edge. He’s so hard it nearly hurts, but he knows better than to ask for release.

He won’t have his wish granted anyway, unless Abaddon wants it to happen in the first place.

The smell of nutmeg reaches his nose and he breathes in deeply, shivering when her hair brushes against his face. Abaddon always smells sharp, but every time he can distinguish something else; this time it’s nutmeg and cinnamon, a mix of spice and sweetness. No combination can be more perfect than this one, he decides.

Dean takes a shuddering breath when Abaddon touches him again, the light sweep of her fingers against his heated flesh enough to push his body back to where it was before; right to the edge. She trails nonsense patterns over his skin and he melts into her touch; it’s all he wants.

“It’s getting boring without hearing those beautiful noises,” Abaddon teases, sighing afterward. “Think I’m going to try getting more out of you,” she adds but ceases her touch.

The sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoes in the chamber and every step makes Dean’s heart thud faster and faster as he waits to find out what she has in store for him next. Then, there is some shuffling, and Dean’s pretty sure that Abaddon is taking off her clothes, his suspicion getting confirmed when a piece of clothing is getting flied on his back, draping over his skin like some luxurious cover before it disappears, falling down to the floor.

Silence takes over again, but it doesn’t last long, and Dean revels in the comfort of knowing exactly where Abaddon is; the location easy to pinpoint with the noise her heels are making. She doesn’t seem to care that she’s giving him clues as she keeps walking, getting closer with her every step.

The next thing Dean knows, she yanks him up by his hair and positions him to her liking, the unspoken command to stay where he is enough to keep him obedient. With his legs spread wide as he leans on the couch, he feels more vulnerable than ever, stripped to nothing but darkness staining his soul and, truth be told, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Abaddon’s finger trails down the crease of his ass and leaves his skin all sticky as it gets to where she wants it to be. The first circle she makes over his rim is enough to make his body shake, but she doesn’t draw it out for much longer, giving in to his desperation.

Without a warning, she goes straight in, her lubed-up finger sliding in easily, like Dean’s been waiting for it his whole life. (And who is he to deny the truth in that statement?) Even though it’s not enough and he needs more, Dean doesn’t impale himself on it, doesn’t move his ass back, so he could take more; he stays still, desperately trying to keep himself in check as Abaddon starts moving her finger inside him.

It seems like so little, yet is already too much with how long she’s been teasing him already. Every time she reaches deep, Dean lets out incomprehensible sounds; he probably wouldn’t be able to identify them properly, even if he wasn’t gagged. Abaddon doesn’t rush, though. Her thrusts are slow and measured, despite the depth they reach. They still don’t scratch the itch he’s got deep inside and he doubts they’ll get to it soon.

Another finger makes its way inside him and the stretch feels incredible, making him all too aware of the shape of her fingers and how they seem to touch every inch of his insides. It’s almost terrifying how well Abaddon knows his body already. Or, it should be terrifying, but Dean can’t find it in him to care, at least not for as long as she tortures him like that.

They bump into his prostate and the feeling punches his breath out of his lungs, makes his body shiver, almost like there’s an electric current running somewhere under his skin. Abaddon picks up her pace, then, and doesn’t bother with being gentle or whatever else he would expect from someone else. She rams into him over and over again, nailing his prostate every single time, and he’s reduced to a sobbing mess, tears running from his eyes as he tries to hold back the inevitable and don’t come until she allows him to.

Abaddon knows exactly how much he can take after so many times they’ve played like this, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t like to push his buttons. Every time they’re together, Dean can tell she’s trying to stretch his limits as much as she can and this time is no different. Abaddon’s playing him like a fine instrument and it feels like an almost impossible task not to come, but Dean’s not a quitter. He’s going to try being a good boy anyway.

“Not begging yet?” Abaddon chuckles, scissoring her fingers as she keeps going. “That’s an improvement.”

Dean nods in agreement, as much as the position allows him to, and it seems to please Abaddon, as she adds another finger to the mix. She’s relentless still and Dean prays to god knows who to be able to hold on, feeling his cock pulse and ooze precome with her every thrust.

Somebody seems to have mercy over him, because Abaddon stops and pulls out, but it both brings him relief and frustration as he feels his release die down again, disappear until there’s truly nothing left. The only reminder of what could have been is the warmth enveloping his body and the trembling of his thighs as he tries to focus on the soft texture of the couch under his palms, trusting it to ground him to reality.

A scream tears from his throat when something else gets pushed inside him and it doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to identify the item as one of the plugs they have prepared for their sessions. But, when there seems to be no end to it as Abaddon keeps working it in, Dean loses it, biting down on the gag as his cock shoots spurt after spurt of come, the strength of his orgasm making him slump down onto the couch.

Tears prickle in the corners of his eyes when Abaddon slaps his ass a few times, clearly knowing what he just did. Every hit jostles the plug inside him and with the way he’s clenching around it, it’s too much, but she doesn’t seem to mind, adorning his already burning ass with slap after slap, so much strength behind them that Dean can feel it in every nerve ending.

She’s relentless, like always, and keeps going, yanking Dean back by his hair as she pushes him to the ground. He barely has the time to gain some balance when she gets rid off the gag, tossing it unceremoniously to the ground. Dean takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with as much oxygen as he can manage with the collar still on, but that’s all he can do when she grabs him harshly and pulls closer.

“Now you’re going to make up for what you did,” Abaddon almost growls and the threat in her voice is enough to alight the fire inside Dean again, keeping it burning strong. “And maybe I won’t punish you any more.”

Dean nods eagerly, not sure if he’s allowed to speak or not, and the next thing he knows, Abaddon guides his head in between her thighs, her smooth skin a stark contrast against the scruff on his face. He doesn’t wait a second longer and buries his head in her wet heat, licking and sucking every inch of skin he can get his tongue on, groaning low in his throat at the taste flooding his mouth. Again, delicious nutmeg.

He balances himself on his knees and raises his palms from the floor, intending to put them on Abaddon’s thighs. Dean wants to hold her exactly where he wants to as he sucks on her clit strong, knowing she doesn’t like it when he holds back. Though, the second his fingers brush against her skin, her palm streaks his cheek hard, the pain erupting in a blink of an eye.

“No hands,” Abaddon warns, her voice strong and unwavered, like what he’s doing doesn’t affect her at all. But he knows it does. “If you can’t figure this out without them it means you’re not worth my attention at all.”

Instead of some witty remark that begs to make its way from Dean’s lips, only a hum of acknowledgement spills out, and Dean crosses his arms behind his back, knowing it’s the best way to keep them out of the equation. With renewed motivation, he slides his tongue inside Abaddon, fucking her with fast and rough thrusts, feeling her walls flutter around him.

It’s enough to spur him on, make him pick up his pace as he does the job the best he can. After all, Dean knows exactly what gets her going; he’s a quick learner, if anything else. He doesn’t leave any spot unattended, rubbing his tongue against her walls like he wants to learn them by heart and maybe it isn’t that far from the truth.

The sounds she’s making are the best kind of a reward. High-pitched moans, rich in volume and tone, ringing in his ears until there’s nothing else he can hear than them and pleading whines as she tells him exactly what she wants, even though he already knows.

Dean’s getting close again, knowing exactly how little control over himself he exhibits now, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The way she smells and tastes is divine, even if it sounds a bit ironic, and there’s not a best spot he would rather have himself in.

It’s the best place to be without a doubt.

Abaddon is already wound up and it doesn’t take long for Dean to have her writhing under his tongue, her fingers tugging sharply at his hair as she comes, pushing her pussy into Dean’s face. She’s insatiable and Dean does the only thing his hazy mind can think of; he keeps going.

It seems like that’s exactly what Abaddon wants, but she takes the initiative this time, rocking her hips against his mouth as she chases her next release. Dean keeps his tongue stiff so she will really feel it and tries his best to keep doing what he was doing, as always, eager to please. And she lets him.

His body seems to be in sync with hers, shivers running down his spine almost like frost is licking at his skin when she starts trembling under him. He shuffles a bit on his knees and the plug moves inside him, enough to tease and torture, but too little to satisfy the need running through his veins.

A few more licks and Abaddon falls apart again, squeezing his head in between her strong thighs and Dean’s surprised she exhibits enough control over her body as not to crack his skull. He can’t breathe, completely surrounded by her, but it only makes his cock harden even more as his lungs beg for air.

When Abaddon lets him go, his chest is heaving as he takes breath after breath. He tries his best to pull himself together fast, knowing they’re far from being done.

Dean leans into the soft touch caressing his cheek, the little affection calming him down instantly. It’s such a rare occurrence he treasures it deeply every time it happens and isn’t surprised when it ends before he can blink.

“Get up,” Abaddon orders when she lets go of him, her voice a bit on the side of breathy, and Dean follows the request immediately, but not without a smirk on his face. “Get on the couch, hands and knees.”

He scrambles to do exactly what she wants and shudders when he gets into the position, hearing the sound of Abaddon’s heels echo in the room once more. His muscles are burning as he waits, because she never hurries, opting to keep him squirming and waiting.

When she touches him again, it makes his head swim and his body have trouble processing the feeling; Dean always gets so desperate for her it’s not even funny. A gasp leaves his mouth when Abaddon starts wiggling the plug inside him, fucking him with it slowly, drawing it all out until his knees are buckling under him, making it near impossible to stay upright.

The sounds are streaming freely from his lips and, if Dean were to judge, that’s exactly what Abaddon wants, so he doesn’t try holding back. He lets himself get lost in the sensation, deliciously overwhelmed with every ripple of pleasure coursing through his body as she works on him at a steady pace.

When Abaddon pulls the plug out, Dean lets out a desperate whine as the emptiness replaces previous fullness. He needs to have something inside him, needs something to break him and put him into pieces again, but he trusts Abaddon to know that and do that. She always knows exactly what he needs.

The tension in the air is so thick it could be cut with a knife; it’s choking, almost, making it difficult to breathe, putting his mind into overdrive. Fortunately, the torture ends soon enough as something nudges at his fluttering hole, rubbing around his rim, dripping lube.

Dean doesn’t move, gritting his teeth as Abaddon teases him, tracing circles around his rim so lightly it’s possible he’s imagining it. Though, he’s definitely not imagining the first push of the dildo inside him, the moment it breaches the first ring of muscle, slipping in without trouble.

Even with how loose he is from the plug, this dildo is still a stretch, every inch of it rubbing against his insides, making him memorize every single ridge of it. Dean digs his fingers into the couch when Abaddon thrusts all the way in and it feels like she’s splitting him open, but it’s the best thing in the world.

The cold metal rings of her harness sit tightly against his skin as she freezes on spot, waiting, draping her body over his. Dean feels surrounded by her in every way imaginable; having her inside and feeling her skin on his makes him want to go wild and needy, but he stops himself before he does anything.

She didn’t move yet, after all.

Her breath fans over the back of his neck and he can’t hold back a shiver, feeling it wander all the way to his cock. Every little detail is enough to rile him up even more, since he’s been on the edge for what feels like ages and there is nothing he wouldn’t do to come right now. Actually, he would do anything.

“Let’s see how fast I can make you come,” Abaddon purrs, skirting her teeth over his skin as she starts to mark him up. “And then we’ll see how long you can keep going after you come.”

The promise is enough to make Dean whine and he can’t care less that he sounds desperate as fuck; he’s past worrying about what Abaddon will think of him. It doesn’t matter, as long as she gives him exactly what he needs.

She starts to pull out slowly, setting her hands on his hips, digging her fingers into his skin. Before Dean has the chance to complain or beg for her to go faster, she rams back in without a warning, setting a rhythm that has Dean trembling all over, his breath catching in his throat.

It isn’t in her style to be gentle or slow and she follows her usual repertoire, the sound of her skin slapping against Dean’s and the curses spilling from his lips filling the silence. Soon, the words turn incoherent, but it’s not a surprise; Dean can barely try to hold himself from coming, let alone keep his mouth and brain in check.

Every time, Abaddon thrusts in deep, and nothing can stop Dean from pushing back onto the dildo, wanting to feel it even deeper, if possible. He’s sweaty all over, his heart racing so fast it doesn’t seem to be that far from jumping out of his chest, but he holds on, trying his best to draw this out for a moment longer.

His cock clearly has other ideas, throbbing and leaking precome on the couch, messing up the undoubtedly expensive piece of furniture. It starts like every other time, with the surroundings feeling smoking hot, like the pits of hell itself, and Dean knows it won’t be long before he breaks all the way.

Abaddon clearly senses it, because she picks up her pace even more as she yanks Dean’s head back, making the collar restrict the airflow a bit. The angle changes, too, and she manages to nail his prostate, doing it again and again when Dean screams with all the force he has, surprising himself with how loud the sound is as it overshadows every other sound getting to his brain.

He topples over the edge with the next nudge of the dildo against the spot that has him seeing stars, his cock shooting come with so much force he feels it splash over his skin. It doesn’t fade away like he expects to, but keeps on going, the blood ringing in his ears so loud he can’t hear anything else.

Abaddon never gets tired, so Dean braces himself the best he can, gritting his teeth when she keeps thrusting, her moans a clear indication she’s getting off on this just as much as he is. He seriously doubts he will be able to come one more time, but there’s no way he will tap out of this.

Dean doesn’t think he has such a choice here, to be honest.

The pleasure is past too much already, bordering now on painful, but Dean doesn’t have too much trouble handling it. It’s almost cleansing, being overtaken with such strong sensations and not being able to think about anything else than the pressing need to take a breather or experience some more pleasure.

Dean vaguely registers wetness running down his cheek or the aching need inside him that makes it difficult to determine if he wants more or maybe wants it all to stop. Abaddon makes the decision for him, though, and keeps going despite the fact he’s barely holding up, his face smushed into the pillow as she fucks him still.

Everything becomes more intense and clearer; every thrust feels incredible, like she’s forcing something a lot bigger inside him, but it fits anyway, every brush of her skin against his electric, making shivers run all over. Even the pleasure feels stronger, somehow, threatening to consume Dean whole as he feels his cock getting hard again, his body completely ignoring the fact he’s totally exhausted.

Her hands leave his hips, but she keeps going, probably working on reaching her release by the sounds she’s making. And, soon enough, her thrusts turn uneven, almost chaotic, but the moans that get to his ears as she comes are the best kind of a reward he can get.

When Abaddon pulls out, it feels way worse than having her fuck into him for too long, and the soreness makes itself known immediately. Without a warning, Abaddon pushes the plug back inside him and its presence is enough to drive Dean crazy when its edges rub against his swollen walls, but he’s not able to dwell on it for long when he’s getting kicked to the floor like some dog who wasn’t allowed to get onto the couch in the first place.

It hurts to have his body collide with the firm floor, but Dean doesn’t let out a sound, trying to make himself as comfortable as he can allow it with his body completely wrung out. The upcoming release fades away fast, but it’s not a big loss; he knows Abaddon will give him more later. There’s no doubt about that.

The moment he’s back on his hands and knees, his back curved up as he stretches out like a cat, the weight of Abaddon’s feet on his back grounds him again, like it’s the only connection available. This time, she scrapes his skin with the sharp heels, like she’s trying to remind him who he belongs to.

She doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t need to. As long as Abaddon allows him to give her everything he can, he’s going to do it. He will do everything for her, as long as it makes her happy. Judging by a chuckle she lets out, it works perfectly.


End file.
